Chapter 3 The Whispering Shadows

The girl didn't sleep.

She sat curled up on the cold wooden floor, her back pressed against the wall, watching the baby with wary eyes. The candle had nearly burned out, its tiny flame flickering weakly against the darkness.

Every few moments, she would glance at the door, hoping-praying-that it would creak open and the witch would tell her it had all been a mistake. That she could go home.

But the door remained shut. The rain outside continued to fall in steady, rhythmic drops.

And the baby remained silent.

She tried not to look at it too much. Every time she did, something about its wide, unblinking stare sent chills down her spine.

Then-

A sound.

Not from the baby. Not from the wind outside.

From inside the walls.

A soft, scratching noise, as if long, bony fingers were trailing against the wooden panels. The girl's breath hitched.

She wasn't alone.

Slowly, she turned her head toward the farthest corner of the room. The darkness there seemed thicker than it should have been, like ink pooling in the shadows.

And then-

A whisper.

It was faint, almost too quiet to hear. But it was there.

"She waits... She watches... She counts..."

The girl's skin prickled. She shrank deeper into the corner, hugging herself.

Then, the baby moved.

It wasn't much-just a slight shift beneath its thin blankets-but in the eerie silence, it felt as loud as thunder.

The girl turned her attention back to it, watching as its tiny fingers curled slightly.

Then, finally, for the first time since she had woken up in the witch's cottage-

The baby made a sound.

A tiny, breathy giggle.

The girl's blood ran cold.

Not because the baby had laughed. But because it wasn't alone.

The shadows in the room moved.

They stretched, writhing unnaturally along the walls and floor. The candle's light barely reached them, as if the darkness was swallowing it whole.

And then, a voice-not a whisper this time, but a cold, echoing voice that filled the room.

"It begins."

The candle went out.

The girl screamed.

Darkness swallowed the room whole.

---

When she woke, the candle was burning again.

Had it been a dream?

No. The air still felt wrong. Heavy. Thick. As if something had changed.

She looked around quickly, her small heart hammering. The baby was still lying on the floor, wrapped in its thin blankets. The shadows had returned to normal.

But something was different.

Something had changed.

And then she realized-

The baby was older.

Not much-just slightly. But it was undeniable.

Its face was fuller. Its fingers longer.

As if an entire day had passed in an instant.

Her breath came in quick gasps. She didn't understand. How was this possible? Babies didn't grow like this. Not in a single night.

Then the door creaked open.

The girl whipped her head toward it, expecting the witch. But no one stood there.

Just the open doorway.

An invitation.

Or a trap.

Her stomach twisted. She didn't trust it. But she couldn't stay in this room forever.

Carefully, she reached down, lifting the baby into her arms. It felt heavier than before, confirming her worst fears.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped toward the doorway.

The hallway beyond was dimly lit, the walls lined with old, tattered wallpaper. Shadows flickered unnaturally along the floorboards.

She swallowed hard.

Then, gripping the baby tightly, she stepped into the darkness.

And behind her, from the farthest corner of the room, the whispering began again.